


I'll Be Okay

by argylemikewheeler



Series: Tumblr Re-posts [42]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Character Study, Depression, Gen, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 11:38:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18249068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/argylemikewheeler/pseuds/argylemikewheeler
Summary: Mike struggles getting out of bed one morning and two friends come to help in the small ways they can. He's going to be okay. One day.





	I'll Be Okay

Mike went asleep with jittering excitement about the campaign he’d be playing with the Party tomorrow; Max had somehow smuggled her way in to watch and Eleven was supposed to be able to stop by; her grown in hair fooling Mike's parents into thinking he had made a new friend entirely (and the Chief of Police accompanying her might have something to do with it too). It was supposed to be the best first day of winter break imaginable.

Will had just signed off on their radio, both Mike and Will unable to stop sharing their excitement. Eventually, Will's mom interrupted them to order that both of them get to sleep that instant-- just because there wasn't any school didn't mean that they could stay up  _all_  night. Every bone was thrumming with joy as he turned off his side light. Under the covers he pulled up to his chin, Mike kept tossing and turning. Eventually he forced himself to close his eyes to get some sleep.

When he opened his eyes again, he felt a weight hanging around his legs and arms. They were aching and tired even though he was lying down. Every inch of him had been numbed and could barely be bothered to move as his mother called his name up the stairs. Keeping his eyes open burned and every breath came out as a sigh.  _No. Not today_. He didn’t need it today; he still hadn’t found a way to describe to his friends the weird days when he felt exhausted by just being awake, but with the wrong fatigue to ever go back to sleep. He didn’t even tell his parents.

“Michael! Get up, don’t be a lump in bed all day!” His mom called, clapping her hands. “Nancy, would you wake your brother?”

“Mike! Get up!” Nancy knocked on Mike’s open door, poking her head inside. “Mom’s making breakfast.” Mike groaned in response. “Mike, come on, please. Don’t make Mom come after you.”

“I’m not hungry.” Mike said, burying his face in the pillows. “Go away.”

“She’s making breakfast for all your friends. You better get downstairs, Mike.” She said, continuing to walk down the hall away from him.

“In a second.” He sighed to himself, already feeling exhausted by the movement. He could sleep through breakfast. They could all eat without him. They’d eat without him and then Mike might have a clear head, mind unfazed by the day. In one more hour, Mike could reopen his eyes and he’d feel better. He’d be awake. He’d wake up as himself.

Mike barely got ten minutes to himself before his father was standing at his door, hand drumming against the door.

"Get up, son." He walked into his room with long strides, like he was walking in with all the answers. "One of your friends is already downstairs."

"Who is it?" Mike grumbled. "Is it Will?"

"It's the quiet girl." His father said, his hands resting in his pockets. "You can't stay like this, Mike."

"I know."

"Men don't just lie around. Maybe I should discuss the idea of putting you in a sport with your mother again-- you need to be out more often." He clapped Mike on the shoulder, nearly pushing him further into the mattress. "The Wheelers will have their second football star."

"Dad, this has nothing to do with that." Mike insisted, trying to defend himself, but with limited understanding and energy to do so. "Sometimes I just... I just feel  _sad_." Mike guessed. But being sad typically meant he was upset about  _something;_ this was just his resting emotion.

"Nonsense! You have a great home, a great family-- there is nothing to be sad about."

"I know." Mike said, rolling away from his father. "I know."

“Mike.” Eleven was standing in front of his field of vision as he reopened his eyes. “Eat.” She placed a plate of toast next to his face on the mattress. “Eat.” She repeated. She grabbed a piece of toast and moved it closer to Mike’s mouth, trying to eliminate the amount of energy used to consume it. “Mike, please.”

“No.”

“Mike.” She crouched in front of him, allowing him to see her face. Her hair had been slicked back again, her mascara on just a little too much on one eye and already about to run down her cheek. “Mike, get up.”

“I don’t want to, El.” He sighed, closing his eyes again. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” She echoed. “But I’m here now.”

“I know.” Mike said. “I just can’t.”

“Can’t?” Without another word, she pushed Mike’s blankets back and grabbed his legs. She jostled them, pulling them off the mattress and taking Mike with them.

“El! What are you doing! They aren’t broken.” He exclaimed, arms flying out to balance himself and catch himself before he fell face first into his nightstand.

“Then why can’t you walk?”

“Because I’m tired, El. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Promise?” She asked, slowly hoisting his legs back onto his bed.

“Yeah.” Mike mumbled, unsure if he’d be any better the next day.

Sometimes, he’d feel underwater for days. He could only hope he’d be more lively the next day. The only thing he could focus on was that moment; it consumed nearly every part of him. If he wasn't consciously trying to stay present with the conversation, he drifted and began to think of nothingness. He’d think about how he almost lost Will twice, how his sister was suffering from the sudden loss of Barbara, how his parents were horrendously oblivious to their own kids and their changing personalities. How his father was going to put him into sports to "straighten him out". Mike would take a gulp of water with each breath and drown.

“See you tomorrow, Mike.” Eleven said, placing a hand on Mike’s. She smiled at him briefly before turning to leave. She probably understood-- what there was to really understand, even Mike didn't really know the word for it. He was just hoping she'd come back tomorrow. He hoped everyone would come back to him, although they had every right to leave-- he was the most unreliable and worst person, becoming a slack shell of their friend in a matter of hours.

"Mike?" A new voice delicately spoke from the door. "Mike, can I come in?"

"Will?" Mike turned to face the door frame. Will hovered in the hallway, hands gripping the handle of his backpack. He stepped inside Mike's room and placed his bag against his dresser.

"El said you couldn't walk." Will repeated. "Is everything okay?"

"It's nothing like that." Mike said. "I'm fine."

"You won't get out of bed." Will countered. "You can't be okay."

"It's dumb." Mike tried again. "It's just... brain stuff. I guess. I don’t know.” Where did he even start? It was probably all in his head but it affected every inch of him.

"Brain stuff?" Will stood by the bed, looking down at Mike. "Like... What Mr. Clarke has been teaching us?" That stuff made too much sense; that was  _science_. Mike was just sad.

"Kind of. Like... That guy, ya know, his personality changes? I guess. I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like that. I just... I just get weird.” Mike sighed, pressing his hands against his eyes. "And I can't find the energy to do anything. I just want to be here all day."

“Really?” Will sat on the edge of Mike’s bed. Mike could feel the mattress dip and Will’s hand try to find his leg under his blankets. “What’s it from?”

“I don’t know. I just… get like this.” Mike said. “And I know that’s the cheapest answer--”

“No. I--I get it.” Will moved up on the bed, closer to Mike’s head. “I mean, I sort of do. Jonathan got like that when Dad left. Shut his door all the time. Got angry really fast. Didn’t go to school.”

“But that’s because of your Dad.” Mike countered. “That has a reason. I’m just… being pathetic.”

“Hey,” Will sounded insulted. He grabbed Mike’s hands tightly. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.” Mike blinked at Will, surprised by his personal take on his own self-deprecation. “We’ve all been through stuff. It’s okay, Mike. It’s okay.” It didn’t make the weights on Mike’s limbs melt away, but it made them feel less foreign to his body. He felt like he could recognize them, he could learn to work around them.

He squeezed Will’s hand, his fingers aching. “I’m okay. I will be.”

**Author's Note:**

> [The Rebloggable Post!](https://argylemikewheeler.tumblr.com/post/172086909735/ill-be-okay)


End file.
